Full Circle
by Mystearica676
Summary: To repay her debt, Emma sails with Hook to Neverland. But instead of a child's dream world, they find a twisted landscape where sorrow has taken hold. As they travel through the land and meet its inhabitants, Emma sees a darker side of Hook. Will their new adventure bring them closer together, or rip them apart right before the final showdown with Cora and Regina? 3rd in my series.
1. ONE: Happy Thoughts

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz, ABC Studios, J.M. Barrie, Disney, and various other authors and publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I really thought I would have more time to get this fic started, what with only a few episodes left in the season, but darned if ABC didn't decide to visit Hook's old stomping grounds in the show! -_- Well, I wanted to make sure to flesh out my version of The Neverland a bit before that happened. This chapter is not yet extensively edited, so I apologize in advance for any annoying spelling or grammar errors. I wrote this almost nonstop through, and I'm TIRED. So I hope you enjoy the continuation of Hook and Emma's adventure! Please read A Good Pirate is Hard (to Find) and The Long Road Home first if you haven't yet. They are parts one and two of this trilogy, respectively. Thanks in advance for any reviews! ^_^_  
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**CHAPTER ONE: Happy Thoughts**

_You don't really find Neverland. It finds you._

Emma leaned against the deck railing, looking out across the deceptively calm sea. She rested her belly on the warm wood. It was solid, comforting, and eased some of the nausea left over from earlier in that day.

The squall had broken over the ship without warning, instantly bringing a deluge of icy water and high winds. The passengers had fled below deck while the crew scrambled to secure lines and keep the ship upright. Emma stayed behind to lend a hand, then proceeded to be tossed around in the storm like a pinball. She reeled from sail to rigging, rope pile to barrel stack, et cetera, cursing all the while. In the end, she did as she always had done and soldiered on through the discomfort and resulting nausea, learning more than she'd ever planned about nautical life in the desperation-breeds-motivation kind of way.

Though she wouldn't admit it out loud, she stayed partly to keep an eye on the ship's Captain during the chaos. Wiping the constant lash of water out of her eyes, she could just make out his figure at the helm. She caught a flash of white in the darkness and realized he was grinning. That crazy bastard… He probably lived for this kind of adventure. She, on the other hand, would rather be drinking a hot cup of coffee in her fleecy pajamas back home. Or in hell. Anywhere warm, really. Growling, she slapped a tangle of wet hair back over her shoulder.

A flash of lightning illuminated the deck enough that she could see Hook clearly for a second. She had to admit, he cut a dashing figure. His hair was plastered to his skull and his drenched leather coat clung to him, but unlike herself, he didn't look like a drowned rat. He looked in his element. He wrestled with the wheel one-handed, keeping the ship on a track that only he seemed able to follow. She had asked him days ago if he navigated by the stars and he said simply, "Sometimes." Feet braced widely apart, he reveled in the moment, locked in a strange power struggle with Mother Nature. Emma wondered how he had kept from going crazy in the comparatively boring setting of Storybrooke. Maybe, she thought, watching him laugh at nothing and spin the wheel wildly to the left, he had already gone crazy long before. It would be just her luck.

She sighed and bent her head to the task at hand, which was re-tying a couple of loose ropes that held a tarp over some crated supplies. And suddenly, the storm was gone. The winds died down, the sun came out, and the rains left quietly, swiftly, as if they had never been there in the first place. Emma blinked through wet lashes in surprise. She finished tying off the last rope, decided that her haphazard knot would have to do, then walked quickly to join Hook as he stared up at the retreating line of dark clouds.

"Is that normal?" Emma asked, breaking the utter silence. She glanced around and noticed the crew had also abandoned their storm-fighting tasks and were looking to the sky, then at each other. They held themselves still, but seemed not to be shocked at the turn of events.

She turned back and Hook nodded once, slowly, in acknowledgment of her question. "Aye. She's welcoming me home," he said grimly.

Then it started to snow.

XXXXX

And so it went for several hours, weather alternating as though someone was flipping channels. Emma swore that if it started to rain frogs or snakes, she was jumping overboard and taking her chances in the sea. Eventually, however, the temperature evened out and the weather settled on moderately sunny.

As she leaned against the warm railing, a shadow fell over her shoulder. A silver hook settled on the wood beside her hand, scraping lightly against the grain. She looked back and noticed that possibly for the first time since the beginning of their voyage, the Jolly Roger's Captain looked tired. His chest settled heavily against her back, and after glancing around to ensure that neither her parents nor Henry was on deck, she allowed it.

"Tough day," she observed. She felt him smile into her hair.

"You do have a gift for understatement, my dear. Which part did you find particularly vexing? The rain, the hail? Perhaps the mini tornado?"

Emma made a small "hmmm" sound in the back of her throat that put all sorts of deliciously inappropriate thoughts into his mind. "I'd have to say I was most surprised by the sandstorm," she announced.

"Yes, that one must have taken some doing," he agreed. "But look on the bright side. It means we're on the right path."

"You mean you didn't know before?" She sounded truly astonished, and he felt a tiny glow of satisfaction deep inside that she had believed in his leadership. He was hesitant to crush that, but decided some honesty was called for (despite that going against his usual policy).

"Not entirely, lass. You don't really find, Neverland. It finds you. There are signs that point in its direction, of course, if one knows where to look for them. But if it doesn't wish to be found, it won't be."

"So, you're saying Neverland wishes for you to find it again?"

"Yes, although I'm not sure I want to know why." He kissed her neck, and they watched the sunset for a long time.

XXXXX

Hours later, there came a cry of "Land, ho!" from the crow's nest, which spread person to person, and eventually everyone woke up and came rushing to the deck. Emma and Hook literally fell out of bed, dressed hurriedly, and ran out to beat the crowd, managing to appear as if coming from different directions.

Hook fumbled a spyglass from out of his coat pocket and raised it. Then he paused and handed it to her wordlessly.

Emma put her eye to the glass and had her first look at Neverland. In the darkness, distorted by the reflections off the water, it looked more ominous than it probably was, or so she hoped. There were a lot of trees, much more than she would have expected from an inhabited island. They grew dense and twisted, and she could make out tiny shapes moving throughout. People? Animals? She couldn't tell. But they'd soon find out.

The landing itself was anticlimactic. They cast anchor at an appropriate distance from shore, then lowered a small boat into the water for the Captain, Emma, and several of the crew to go out in. Henry promised to stay with his grandparents while she explored, though he was itching to come ashore. "Later, kiddo," Emma promised. The passengers eventually wandered back to their beds, content to have seen the famous Neverland but not really inclined to take any closer of a look.

While his crewmen rowed the dingy to shore that first time, Emma noticed Hook was tense beside her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, nearly whispering though she didn't know why.

He didn't answer.

XXXXX

Emma followed Hook into the darkness. It seemed eerily silent, the only sound that of their bootfalls, but as they progressed, she began to notice small rustlings in the undergrowth. Creatures skittered and scurried to move out of their way, although occasionally it seemed as if some of the movements were headed _towards _them, which was alarming. Not for the first time, Emma wished she had her father's sword. She missed its reassuring weight on her hip. But she'd left it behind for David in case he needed it for an emergency. She and Hook had been making these exploratory excursions for several days now, although he seemed surer of their path this time. She knew he was looking for some place specific, and it seemed like he was narrowing in on his target, if by nothing else than process of elimination.

Her boot snagged on something, a vine maybe, and she bent down to untangle it. It only took her a moment but when she got back up, Hook seemed far ahead of her. She hurried to catch up. Damn forest… Or was it a jungle? Keeping close to Hook, who was stalking silently ahead in an annoyingly self-assured manner, Emma examined their surroundings more carefully. It was a bizarre blending of trees and plants that should not have been able to coexist. Fat, bristling pine trees grew alongside tall palm trees laden with coconuts. She noticed purple orchids blooming between rock crevices, and daisies under their feet. Should flowers even bloom in the dark? She'd never had much of a green thumb, but nothing in this forest seemed right. It was as if some mad gardener had planted all his favorite trees willy-nilly and somehow, beyond comprehension, they had grown.

She nearly stepped on a large toad, then watched as it hopped under a leafy bush she couldn't identify. The bush unexpectedly gave a mighty shake and a long, white snake slithered out and away, giving the two humans a wide berth. Emma shivered. "This place is damned creepy, Hook," she said. "I'm pretty sure some of the things here shouldn't be real, or at least not all together like this."

He paused, but did not turn around. "But they are real, Swan. Understand that. Don't make the mistake of thinking these plants and creatures can't harm you. They can because _he _believes they can. The Neverland twists its shape to suit the imaginations of all children in some ways, but it claimed one boy as its own long, long ago. He wields an inordinate amount of power, and the land is all too happy to play with him." He started walking forward again with renewed purpose.

Emma followed behind more slowly, thinking over his words. She heard an inhuman scream far ahead of them, which tapered into a low, mournful howl. She rubbed at the goosebumps under her jacket. "Creepy," she repeated. "This must be one dark kid. What happened to him?"

Hook was silent for so long that she thought he hadn't heard her. But eventually his voice floated back to her. "He broke his own rule. He grew up."

After a few more minutes of walking, the foliage thinned and they stepped into a small clearing lit by thousands of stars. It was so bright all of a sudden that Emma had to just stop and blink until her eyes adjusted. When they did, she saw Hook standing a short distance away, sword in hand. His demeanor, the way he held his whole body, seemed different somehow: harder, more aggressive than before. Not a good sign.

Directly in front of him was a large, beautiful old oak tree and beneath its curving branches huddled a miserable-looking figure who was sobbing. It was the most gut-wrenching sound Emma had heard. There was no restraint to it, only complete desolation. She felt an immediate desire to go and help the person, but caution held her back. Her parents' personalities were warring within her again. She sighed and looked to Hook, who took several loud steps forward.

His voice boomed into the clearing, "Boy, why are you crying?"

Many birds took to wing and flew away, and the stars themselves dimmed noticeably. The figure quit sobbing and was on his feet in an instant, facing Hook with a short, wicked-looking sword clutched in his hands.

"Who is that?" he sounded shocked and rubbed his eyes for good measure to clear them.

Hook strode forward in a slow semi-circle. "I'm back, you miserable cur. After all, how else am I supposed to kill you at long last?" he spat out viciously.

As Emma was wondering what the hell had come over the pirate, the figure turned to follow Hook's movement and she saw him clearly for the first time. She gasped softly. He was the most beautiful boy she had ever seen. No, not quite a boy anymore. A young man. He appeared older than she'd expected, maybe fifteen or sixteen, and stood tall for that age. His features were delicate, fine-boned, and his longish golden hair spiked in all directions. He wore brown leggings and his shirt was made of leaves and what looked like spider webs. His feet were bare and filthy. Overall, he seemed a wild thing, and he was grinning now.

"Jas. Hook! As I live and breathe," he cried, one hand on his hip.

"Fear not, you won't much longer," Hook replied, leveling his sword.

Peter Pan laughed merrily, all traces of his earlier sadness gone for the moment. "You could never kill me before, old man. Maybe if you had _two _hooks! I could probably arrange that." He darted forward, taking a lightning-quick swipe with his sword that Hook countered easily.

"I think one hook is enough to take care of one small boy… Though, you're not quite small anymore, are you, Pan? And not quite a boy."

The young man's face contorted into an angry grimace and flushed red. He charged at the pirate and let loose a flurry of strikes that Emma's eyes could barely follow. Hook countered them all with a lazy elegance, and Emma suddenly realized he wasn't actually attacking at all.

Peter must have realized the same thing. "Oh ho, cowardly Captain! Afraid of my skill? You should be! I've learned a thing or two since you've been gone." He abruptly stabbed his sword into the ground, reached up and scrambled into the lower branches of the nearest tree. Higher still he climbed, then the leaves fell silent and he disappeared. Hook walked around the tree, peering upwards.

"A dirty trick, Pan. You've been playing with Tiger Lily."

In the blink of an eye, Peter came down on Hook's shoulders like a ton of bricks, driving him to the ground. His sword rolled away and as he reached for it, Peter stomped on his fingers, hard. Emma winced. "Not Tiger Lily! She's old now," Peter said contemptuously, as if that explained everything. "I play with her children now, Black Bear and Little Panther."

As he spoke, he continued to stomp on Hook's hand, shoulders, and whichever other parts of him he could reach with his dirty feet. Hook was still not fighting back properly, merely trying to stand up, but Peter no longer noticed. He bent down quickly and wrenched at something. He held aloft a shiny silver hook that glinted in the star light. "Oh," he cried, "The cleverness of me!" Then he crowed, and Emma could swear she had heard the sound before in a half-remembered dream.

"I'll cut out your tongue with your own hook!"

Emma decided enough was enough. She marched up behind Peter and grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt, yanked him off the pirate. The young man stumbled and fell, dropping the hook at her feet. She picked it up swiftly, examined it, then tossed it to Hook, who had risen up beside her.

"Bloodthirsty little savage, aren't you, kid?" she said dryly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Peter stared up at her. "Mother?" he whispered. Then he shook his head. "And who are you, old lady? Another pirate, eh? It's ok. Two to one are fairer odds, anyway." He rolled backwards and when he stood, he held his short sword again.

"Old lady!" Emma cried. "Oh, this kid is just asking for it, isn't he?" Now she _really_ wished she had her father's sword.

Hook laughed and threw a newly re-weaponized left arm around her back. "Now, now, Swan, don't upset yourself. It's not healthy at such an advanced age."

Peter looked startled to hear Hook's laughter, and he took a large step back, wary now for the first time.

Noticing his confusion, Hook shoved Emma to the side and said, "Nevermind the woman, Pan. I want to know where you've hidden it."

The young man scowled, Emma forgotten. "I don't have it."

"You lie!" Hook advanced on Peter, undeterred by the sword.

"Ask the Witch if you don't believe me! She stole it, her and her kind."

Hook blanched, and Emma was instantly on guard. The witch? Did he mean Cora? Had she been here?

"That's not possible," Hook growled. "She wouldn't. She can't…"

"She could and she did," Peter replied shortly. "She captured me on the rocks and I wasn't able to fly away. She wouldn't let me go until I sent Tink to fetch what she wanted. It was quite unfair." He pouted.

Hook curled his hand into a fist and said, "Damn." The his head came up sharply. "Wait. That's right! Why can't you fly?"

Peter looked solemn. "No happy thoughts."

Then he shook his head again as if clearing away a bad memory. "What were we talking about? I don't remember…" His grip tightened on his sword and he brought it up between them. "No matter. Hook, foul beast, have at thee!" But before he could land the strike, Hook caught the sword with his left 'hand' and ran down its length, silver to steel.

Before Emma could decide how best to separate them again, a tiny light darted toward Peter's head, hovering above his hair. Emma mentally squealed in delight, though of course she couldn't possibly make such an undignified sound out loud. Then again, considering Hook gave her such an amused glance, she couldn't be entirely sure. Who cared anyway, when here was a real, live _fairy!_ Emma was charmed. The fairy moved constantly, almost too fast for the eye to follow, but when she paused to whisper in Peter's ear, Emma could see she was beautifully formed, a miniature girl in every detail.

Peter jumped backwards, pulling his sword out of Hook's grasp with a metallic hiss. "We'll finish this later, old man," he said, and was gone in the blink of an eye, running nimbly through the dark forest.

Emma joined Hook. "So. What was all that about?"

"No idea," he said absently. "Whoever knows why that brat does what he does?"

Emma noticed he was staring at the oak tree in the center of the clearing, and she walked over to inspect it. There was a large hole cut into one side, with a single word painstakingly carved above:

WENDY

She ran her fingers over the worn letters. "I know what this is," she said quietly. "I remember from the book. Come look, this is Wendy's tree!"

Hook stayed where he was. "No, love. That's Wendy's grave."

XXXXX

The trip back to the beach was a solemn affair. They walked slowly side by side as Hook told Emma the story of Wendy's death.

She had returned to her family and grown older, as all women eventually do. She had had children of her own whom Peter also visited in time, though she remained the only girl ever brought to Neverland in person. One night, when Peter went to visit her great-grandchildren, he noticed that all the curtains were drawn and the house was in mourning. Wendy was dying. Until then, Peter had been content to forget her and play with her children, then grandchildren, then great-grandchildren, but all of a sudden, looking through her window, love for her came rushing back and he beat upon the blinds until they opened. He snatched her up and flew her back to Neverland, thinking she would recover there. Maybe even become young again, and tell her stories! But of course that didn't happen. She died in his arms before they reached the shore, and he ended up burying her under her old tree. Heartbroken, at long last, Peter Pan began to grow up. Very slowly, but steadily, and soon he would be a man. What would happen then to Neverland was anyone's guess.

Emma digested this information. "How do you know all this?"

Hook kicked at a fallen pinecone. "Tiger Lily told me."

"She _told _you?" Emma was incredulous. "Didn't you hate each other? Didn't your men slaughter her tribe?"

He glared at her. "Plenty of my crew fell to her people's tomahawks, too, you know. It was war. But I noticed Neverland changing in small ways. The animals were quieter, the fairies no longer reveled. And once, for a whole month, the stars refused to shine. The dark forests spread, and threatened to cover all the open spaces. So I kidnapped the Princess to find out what was wrong."

Emma could tell there was more to that particular story, but felt she didn't really want to know, so she let it go for now and Hook continued.

"I confronted Pan here, just before I left. He wasn't as old yet as you see him now. We fought, of course, and I stabbed him in the shoulder, but he wounded me grievously in one leg. He managed to steal something precious from me before fleeing, and I couldn't catch him. Now, it's too late." He sounded bleak.

"Well, putting aside the fact that you keep dueling with a boy-"

"He's not a-!"

"-can't we just get whatever it is from Cora? We have to confront her anyway."

"Cora? What the bloody hell are you talking about, Swan?"

Now she was curious. "The Witch isn't Cora?"

Hook laughed harshly. "No, I wish. Cora, I could handle." He paused to consider. "Maybe. Anyway, the Sea Witch is a different kettle of crazy fish. I'd rather hoped to avoid her entirely. So we're just going to grab your folks and set sail out of here. I'll cut my losses and take my chances in the Enchanted Forest. Maybe you'll hire me to be your stable boy." He winked at her and Emma smiled in spite of herself.

"Will you work shirtless?"

"As you wish…" He stumbled to a stop and pulled her up beside him. "Something's wrong."

Before the words left his mouth, she was already running towards the shore. He rolled his eyes, "Typical," then followed her.

XXXXX

Hook caught up to Emma at the small camp they had set up for people who wanted to visit Neverland. Most of Storybrooke's residents chose to remain on the ship, but several members of Hook's crew made the trip between ship and shore several times daily to gather timber for repairs and to hunt game to replenish their supplies. Now, the small dingy they used sat marooned in the water about forty feet from the ship.

Emma noticed several people were both in and round the little craft, and it was in danger of overturning. Then she saw who was sitting inside. She let out an angry yell, and prepared to dive into the water. Hook stopped her just in time.

"Stop, lass, it's not safe. Look at the water"

"Let me go, Hook!"

"_Look at the water!" _

She stopped struggling and looked where he was pointing. Below the dingy, in which Mary Margaret and Henry sat, were several murky figures in the water. They were clinging to the boat with one hand and held long, thin spears in the other. They all had long hair and seemed to be female.

"Mermaids." Hook cursed, "Shit. I hate bloody mermaids."

Emma didn't know why she had a hard time with this, after all she'd seen recently. But murderous mermaids? That was new.

"Evil, foul bitches of the deep!" Hook dropped his sword belt into the sand, and shrugged off his coat. He drew a fine chain necklace over his head. On it hung a small key, which opened the hidden safe in his cabin containing the magic beans only Emma knew about. He pressed it into her hand, and only then did she turn from the sea and notice him pulling off his boots.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"I don't have a lot of time to explain."

He was right. Emma saw two small heads emerging from the waves just off the shore. Slowly, the mermaids rose and water streamed down their hair and upper bodies. One had copper-colored hair, the other black. Both were darkly tanned and sleekly muscled, and their eyes were huge and slanted, giving them a slightly alien look. They wore no clothing and seemed unashamed of their bare breasts. Each held a spear in one find-boned, webbed hand. They were utterly lovely, but when they smiled, Emma noticed rows of horrible shark teeth. She shuddered, but stepped forward anyway.

"What the hell do you want? Why are you holding that boat captive? Let them go right now, or you will seriously be sorry."

They did not even glance her way. "You are summoned, human. Our Queen will see you now," they addressed Hook.

Emma blinked. Had she just been completely ignored?

"Ok, now I'm pissed off." She took another step forward but Hook blocked her path.

"No, Emma, you can't."

"Can't what? They-"

He kissed her suddenly, hard, like he was trying to draw out her soul. She leaned into him and he breathed her in as best he could, locking away the memory.

"I love you, Emma. You know that, right?"

Emma felt like she'd been kicked by a mule. "You… What?"

He kissed down to her knuckles, using her momentary distraction to walk backwards. He stood knee-deep in the water now and let go of her hand.

"Your father knows how to sail the ship," he said, and before she could ask what he was talking about, the two mermaids twined their arms around his neck, pulled him down under the waves, and vanished.

Emma stared. All that was left of their passing were little bubbles in the swirling water. Her brain kicked in. They'd taken Hook. Into the water. Which he did not breathe…

"No!" she cried, splashing into the sea, searching in vain. She clawed up handfuls of seaweed. "God damn it! Killian!"

She forced herself to calm down, then zeroed in on the remaining mermaids guarding the dingy and their prisoners. Her eyes narrowed, and she began to swim.


	2. TWO: Mysterious Fathoms

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies for the incredible delay. It's been a long, busy summer; however, I'm resolved to finish this before the new season of OUaT starts. (Fingers crossed!) Apologies also for the lack of Hook. This is a transitional chapter that turned out longer than originally planned, but it's necessary. Unbeta-ed, so please ignore any grammatical errors or general weirdness. As always, reviews are appreciated!

**CHAPTER TWO: Mysterious Fathoms**

Emma had never been much of a swimmer, but now, even weighted down by her jeans and shoes, she made it to the dingy with record speed. The mermaids saw her coming, and screeched at each other in high-pitched tones that indicated laughter. Ignoring the burning in her lungs, she launched herself at the nearest mermaid, grabbed a fistful of platinum hair, and without pause, slammed the mermaid face-first into the hull. The resulting shriek and cascade of blood from the creature's nose was deeply satisfying in a way that would have disturbed Emma at any other time. The mermaids were no longer laughing. At her partner's cry of distress, the dark-haired one flipped herself backward with a powerful twist of her tail and dove underwater. Quick as a flash, she was gone.

"Nice teamwork," Emma gasped, wrestling with her slippery opponent. When it seemed that the mermaid wanted to hightail it after her friend, Emma put her in a fierce headlock and yelled to her mother, "Grab my collar!"

Mary Margaret saw that Emma could not continue to hold the clawing, thrashing mermaid and tread water at the same time. She caught hold of Emma's sodden shirt, then her shoulders, and pulled both females haphazardly into the dingy.

Once she regained the advantage of more solid ground, Emma easily wrested the mermaid's own spear away from her and held it to her throat. "Stop squirming, and put your hands behind your head."

The mermaid's movements continued frantically until Emma dug the spear point in. The creature stilled, slowly raising her arms.

Emma was breathing hard, but the hand that held the spear did not waver. She glanced over to her mother, then to the small figure slumped beside her on the wooden bench. "Henry!" Emma's whole body jerked so violently with sudden worry that she almost filleted the mermaid.

"He's all right!" Mary Margaret rushed to soothe her daughter. "He slipped in the dingy and bumped his head on the side when we were surrounded, but he's breathing well. He should come around soon."

Emma sighed with relief and swallowed her anger. She turned glittering eyes back to the mermaid who had not moved during the exchange. "You're very, very lucky that he'll be ok. It's time for you to listen carefully, Flipper. I'm sure you can appreciate that I don't have a lot of time to waste, so let's cut to the chase. You're going to tell me where your people took Hook and why. And I suggest you hurry. I get stabby when I'm angry."

"I will tell you nothing, human! I would rather die," the mermaid spat.

Emma didn't have time for this stoic bullshit. Hook could be drowning, could already be… No. She shook her head. They didn't want him dead, at least not yet, but the clock was tick-tocking.

"Fine. We'll do this the hard way. I'm going to find Hook one way or another, just so you know. We have several magical beings on the ship that can whip up a tracking spell. It'll take time, so it's not ideal, but if that's the way it has to be…" she trailed off.

The mermaid smirked, revealing those wicked teeth, but Emma continued. "Of course, I'll have some time to kill while waiting for the spell to be prepared. I've been meaning to visit Tiger Lily's tribe, and since it would be rude of me not to bring a gift, I was thinking about taking them a real live mermaid, what do you think? Tell me, Flipper, how many of their people have you killed? Five, ten? Too many for you to remember? Don't worry, I'll bet someone there remembers."

The mermaid had steadily paled during Emma's speech and was now a sickly fish-belly white. "No, you would not do that," she garbled, teeth grating like nails rattling around in a tin can.

"Oh yes," Emma continued, "I absolutely would."

"You are not of that type, human. I have lived long, and many of your kind have crossed my path. You are meant to be a _hero_." She said the word as others might say sewer rat, or pit viper.

Emma laughed darkly, only stopping herself when she caught sight of Mary Margaret's concerned expression. Have I snapped? She thought, am I insane, what's wrong with me? Nevertheless, she silenced the little voice and continued, addressing her mother. "Did you hear that? Apparently I'm a big damn hero." She turned back to the mermaid. "Oh, Flipper, who told. You. That?" Each word was said a little softer, the spear point pressing a little harder.

Hissing like a cat, the mermaid flexed her claws instinctively, but kept her hands up. Her eyes rolled wildly, as if seeking an escape route. Finding none, she surrendered. In a flat voice, she said, "The man you call Hook, we know as Black Eric, captain of the pirate galleon Jolly Roger. Long have we shared these waters. He has been summoned to the Salt Court, why I do not know. It is true!" she growled, seeing Emma's warning look. "I do not presume to know the reasons behind my orders. But I will tell you, it will not go well for him below the waves. Our Queen has long desired his death. His life is hers by right."

Emma's mind raced to process this new information. A mermaid queen had Hook taken to her court to be executed. But why?

She must have said that part out loud, because the mermaid leaned forward, and there was no mistaking the vindictive gleam in her eyes.

"Because, of course, she is his wife."

The word echoed through Emma's ears like cathedral bells. She felt the boat swaying beneath her and Mary Margaret placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

The mermaid cackled, "Didn't you know? Poor, foolish human. Did he tell you he loved you? He loved us all, once upon a time. And none more so than our Queen." Another grinding laugh.

Emma sorely wished to take her spear to the mermaid like a baseball bat, but salvaged the last threads of her self-control. "Take me to this Salt Court. Right now."

Something must have showed through in her eyes after all, because the mermaid stopped laughing. She tilted her head, appraising, and shrugged an elegant shoulder. "Very well, human. It matters not. But be prepared, you will likely not return to dry land. The sea keeps what she claims."

This was said completely without posturing or menace, which chilled Mary Margaret to her core. "Emma, please. There's got to be another way. You can't trust this creature, and you won't be safe."

Emma considered the mermaid for a long moment then lowered the spear. "I think I'll be safe enough until I get to the Court. Flipper here wants to see me face the Queen's wrath, isn't that right?"

The mermaid grinned. "She will flay your skin from your bones with a single song."

"See? Perfectly safe until the Court. I think I'll keep this though." She slid the spear through her belt, making sure it was secure.

Eyes simmering, the mermaid said nothing.

Mary Margaret drew Emma into a hug, and whispered in her ear. "I saw that kiss. It wasn't the first, was it? How long?"

Emma returned the embrace and heard the splash of the mermaid slithering into the sea. "Since just before I left with Gold to find his son."

Mary Margaret sighed. "I thought as much. Emma, Hook is a dangerous, unpredictable, oftentimes cruel man. _Please_ don't get yourself hurt over him. He's not worth it."

Emma smiled into her mother's short, dark hair. "Probably not. But he'd come for me." She knew it, and that was all that mattered right now.

Mary Margaret drew back and caressed Emma's cheek. "I understand. But if you're not back in twenty-four hours, your father and I are coming after you."

After a quick squeeze of acknowledgment, Emma drew away. She bent down to where Henry lay, relieved to see the even rise and fall of his chest. She brushed his hair to the side and kissed his forehead.

"Take care of him for me."

"Of course. And Emma…" Mary Margaret hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "This place. I feel its magic crawling around in my head and in my heart. It's trying to change us, somehow. Don't let it."

Emma paused. She had noticed that as well, a nameless shadow growing inside slowly but surely. She nodded, then before she could rethink the wisdom of her plan, she toed off her shoes and dove back into the chilly water.

She surfaced in front of the mermaid, who had been lazily treading water with long sweeps of her crimson-colored tail.

"Ok, how does this work, Flipper? I can't breathe underwater."

The mermaid's look was less than friendly. "Yes, you humans are so very helpless in the sea, aren't you?"

Emma met her gaze fearlessly. "Do you want to find out?"

The mermaid laughed in her usual charming way, then said, "No need. The Queen will want to see you. She might even reward me for bringing you to her after all. Come here." She drew Emma to her and pinched her nose between thin, bony fingers. Fast as a minnow, she sealed her lips over Emma's.

Emma assumed this was part of the process that would let her breathe underwater, rather than a sudden attraction on the mermaid's part, but still, she couldn't help the flare of panic as she felt the creature draw the air out of her body. Every molecule was on fire, her head dizzy with loss of oxygen.

When Emma was in danger of passing out, the mermaid jerked her underwater in one powerful motion. Keeping the struggling human from resurfacing by digging sharp claws into her shoulders, the mermaid let out the air she had stolen in a stream of bubbles that poured from her mouth. She drew in a new lungful of air through blood-red gills, and passed it to on to Emma the same as before.

Emma snapped back from the brink of unconsciousness. The mermaid reached out to cover Emma's nose and mouth with a webbed palm, shaking her head, and Emma understood that she was not to breathe.

Looping one arm under Emma's armpit and over the opposite shoulder, the mermaid secured her cargo. Then, with no additional warning, they were off, racing away from the sunlit surface of the water deep into the dark fathoms below.

Despite the uncomfortable stinging in her throat and lungs, Emma couldn't help but notice the alien beauty all around her. She saw thick, ropy walls of bright coral teeming with tiny silver fish. She identified a school of clownfish, some angelfish, and a fat octopus wriggling away in the opposite direction. There were many more creatures she couldn't identify, including ones she was sure didn't exist in her world.

One time, an enormous white stingray, easily twice the length of the Jolly Roger, undulated slowly past them. The mermaid was unconcerned, and kept their descent steady with even thrusts of her powerful tail.

Later, however, she wrenched to a sudden halt, twisting her body to the side in an impossible fashion. Dragging Emma behind a rocky outcropping like a sack of grain, the mermaid stilled all movement as a large creature that would have stolen Emma's breath had she any left came into view.

It had the gray-skinned upper torso of a man, with a blunt-featured head and no discernible neck. His arms were heavily muscled, and his humped back and lower half were nightmarish: pure great white shark.

He was massive, fast, and apparently not as dumb as he looked. He slowed, swiveled his dome-shaped head in all directions, then darted toward their hiding place quick as a lightning strike.

Emma barely had time to choke down a scream when he was upon them. Ignoring the human for the moment, he zeroed in on the mermaid, clearly a treat judging by the eager expression in his beady eyes.

If Emma had previously thought that the mermaid had shark-like teeth, she learned differently now. The shark-man's jaws were wide, and he had multiple rows of large, flat teeth, gleaming white as they sieved the murky water.

The mermaid let out an ear-piercing screech, and spun around, but there was nowhere to go. Shark and mermaid collided, claws scratching, teeth snapping, tails lashing, until they were lost in a bubbly whirlpool.

The small part of Emma's brain that was still rational despite paralyzing fear repeatedly urged her to swim away while she could, back up to the surface. She could work to rescue Hook from the safety of the ship. This wasn't her fight, and even if it was, she could hardly hope to win. A dragon on dry land seemed easy by comparison. The mermaid shrieked again. The shark-man had a handful of her hair and was using it to bow her body backwards over a sharp jut of rock.

Ah well, I never listen to that part of my brain anyway. Emma had her spear out before she even finished that thought. Furiously scissoring her legs, she aimed for the back of the creature's head.

Despite her seemingly glacial slowness in the water, she somehow landed a solid blow. However, the shark-man's skull must have been hard as a rock, because her spear point glanced off to one side, furrowing the rubbery skin. As ribbons of blood curled away, Emma realized she had only succeeded in pissing him off, not to mention invading his personal space. In one simple movement, he grabbed the back of her neck and snapped at her throat.

Emma thought a spear to the eye might be her only hope, so she drove in the point with all her remaining strength. The effect was instantaneous. Emma was hurled away through the water as the creature thrashed and roared in pain.

She saw him lurch away, spear still embedded in his eye. She saw her own long blonde hair streaming and tangling before her, and saw the mermaid's outstretched arm grabbing at her as she flew past. Then her head collided with the rocky wall, and she saw no more.

XXXXX

The whispers started slowly, hissing through her brain like wind through dry leaves. They rose in volume until the wind was a tornado and Emma couldn't stand it anymore. Her eyes shot open and she raised both hands to cover her ears. She squeezed them as a pressure inside her suddenly popped and the whispering fell silent.

She took her hands away tentatively, and wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Overhead, a mural made of painted sand dollars depicted a scene from some epic underwater battle where mermaids and tritons clashed with a giant kraken. She continued to study it a moment longer, then bolted upright, looking around wildly. She was no longer underwater!

The sudden movements turned out to be a bad idea as her head and back were throbbing. Darkness swam at the edges of her vision and she lay back down gently.

A figure detached itself from one corner of the room and stepped forward. "You should have let me die."

Emma focused bleary eyes. "Flipper. Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for asking. Head hurts, you know, but it was all worth it just to hear your heartfelt gratitude."

The mermaid's frown deepened. "I am not grateful. With your rash actions, you have condemned me to servitude. An honorable death would have been preferable."

Emma didn't know which part of all that nonsense to zero in on first. "Where's the honor in getting your throat ripped out while you die screaming?"

The mermaid flinched and opened her mouth, but Emma wasn't finished.

"You're not my favorite person in the world, but nobody deserves that." Emma closed her eyes, tired from the effort of speaking. She felt like she was missing something important. "What do you mean, servitude?"

"You saved me, human. My life is yours until I repay my debt or until you die."

"What!" Emma sat up again, clutching her head. Definitely important. "That's-"

But the mermaid steamrolled over her protests. "Which should be soon. Your death, that is."

Also important. "What?" Emma's tongue felt thick and fuzzy.

"Did I not mention it? My Queen wants to see you, immediately." She smiled impishly. "Well, perhaps not quite immediately. Her Majesty has Black Eric in her chamber, and his screams echo through the halls. But as soon as she is through tormenting him, you will surely be next."

Dead silence. Then, "What?!"

XXXXX

Dressing as fast as her injuries allowed, Emma let the mermaid lead the way to the Queen. The fact that she was willing to do so and the startling lack of guards told Emma a little something about the Queen's power.

As they walked, Emma found the long silver robe she wore to be very comfortable, though her bare feet were cold.

Bare feet.

"Flipper! How are you walking?" Emma realized this was an extremely delayed reaction, but she blamed it on the head injury.

The mermaid snorted and her gills flared. "We can shift from tail to legs and back again, though the process is neither quick nor painless. It requires a potion, of which you do not need to know the details, human. Our Queen is the only one who can change at will."

Another fun power, Emma catalogued. Fantastic. She would have been more apprehensive about facing the mermaid Queen, but for the moment a simmering anger gave her resolve.

They arrived at an immense doorway made of carved driftwood. The lintel had been inlaid with crushed shells and clusters of pearls at each corner.

Stomach tight with worry for what kind of bloody, battered state she might find Hook in, Emma was angry enough to kick in the door. This was not necessary, however, because it glided inward at their approach, opening without a sound.

Inside the room was a large, airy canopy bed hung with finely woven fishing nets accented at the knots with shimmering jewels of all colors. On the bed, lying amidst rumpled silken sheets, was the most gorgeous woman Emma had ever seen. Long, luxurious red hair curled along her shoulders and down to her waist. She had seafoam green eyes framed by thick lashes, and a sensuous mouth. Her body was lithe and athletic, with long legs, a tiny waist, and breasts that seemed overly large in proportion to the rest of her delicate features. An irrational part of Emma hated her immediately.

In fact, the only imperfection marring the stunning woman was the scowl that drew her eyebrows down into a V over her nose. She scowled at the shirtless man sharing her bed, who had a wine goblet in his hand and a filmy length of cloth trailing from his hook.

Emma blinked.

"Son of a bitch!"


End file.
